Time for Throwback Thursday — bringing back an oldie but goodie that may have floated past you into Internetland. You might want to note the irony of what our World’s Worst Mom, Metis, is yelling as she’s running into the FROZEN yogurt shop.
We were in Phoenix. That explains a lot. I don’t know about you, but being in Phoenix puts me on autopilot; intellectually, I know things are “not as they seem,” but I get sucked in – to movie set quality microclimate strip malls, the grid streets with no landmarks, and the hot, hot, hot, hot sun. January, 85 degrees. Who does that?
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| Photo by Dora Mitsonia |
So, we are heading to frozen yogurt. My husband, George, and our daughter, Alexa, who was about 18-months-old at the time, excitedly get out of the car. We don’t live in convenience land, so the prospect of having driven 15 minutes (just 15 minutes!) for TCBY makes us feel like we’re really getting away with something good. Suddenly, I hear painful shrieks. I figure Alexa has forgotten her doll, Lucy, in the car, and I mentally prepare myself to, in this order, get my purse and then pull out the “It’s OK, just a minute, I’ll help you” line, the one I use when I’m annoyed that I have to change my plans – when I realize this is not a test; I’m sure I see Alexa’s thumb caught in the car door! I’m confused; we bought a Volvo station wagon? How could this be happening? Adrenaline surging, I leap to the rescue, and forcefully yank open the door, saving Alexa from an ER visit and certainly surgery. Meanwhile, George is in TCBY, picking out his double scoops and toppings. And, strangely, Alexa’s cries double in volume, and now she has a nasty cut above her lip that is quickly swelling. I am sweating profusely, and I look around wildly for the culprit – who just slugged my daughter in the mouth? I grab her around the waist, swing my purse over my shoulder, and run into the shop, screaming “Ice! Ice!”
Inexplicably, Alexa had no bruising or swelling in her thumb, but a sizable lump on her lip, due to a car door that opened much more quickly than I expected and connected firmly with her upper lip. For the next couple of days, she would point to it and mournfully say, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.”
We still go to Phoenix (we have family living there; we like them and they still like us). I haven’t been back to the TCBY, though, in years.
Tammy Soong is a writer, wife, and mom from Reno, Nevada. She takes an absurd amount of pain medication, but not enough to have actually named her children "Newt" and "Elfie." She spends most days stressing out over clutter, writing stuff for this place, and working on podcasts with her gal pals, the Blogging Betties.
Okay, I admit it, I laughed first picturing you swinging your purse and clocking your daughter in the lip…but then it was that silly automatic door, which I was told by the dealership when we bought our Toyota Sienna Van that although they have "sensors" it is not very sensitive and little fingers get caught easily….so don't feel too too bad. I think it happens a lot.
I have childhood smashed finger PTSD from getting my hand whacked by a door that was blown closed by a strong gust of wind. So I'm so freaky about fingers in doors. No slamming is probably the most strictly followed rule in our house. That and no running with pointy sticks when they're on fire.
My recent post While Mac Was Sleeping
I'm more of a 'no throwing' and 'no peeing down the heating duct' kind of Mom. I still have a scar on my lip from my brother from a pair of hurled binoculars as a kid. And I woke up one Christmas morning to find it raining… in my room… from the duct on the ceiling (I was on the bottom floor, my sister in the room above.)
My recent post Top Five – November 2011
I think the peeing thing would leave a much bigger scar that the binoculars for me. And this explains a lot about how you turned out.;)